


Escape

by TheShipDen



Series: Run to me [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Gavin Reed, Awakening, Badass Upgraded Connor | RK900, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor is an asshole, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, First Meetings, Gavin Reed Being an Idiot, Gavin Reed Tries, Gavin Reed Whump, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Hurt Upgraded Connor | RK900, Isolation, Italian Gavin Reed, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mild Blood, Nosebleed, Possessive Upgraded Connor | RK900, Protective Gavin Reed, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, Rain, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Deserves Happiness, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Baby, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, Upgraded Connor | RK900 is In Denial About Deviancy, but thats a given, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-29 20:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19837774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShipDen/pseuds/TheShipDen
Summary: No one has ever looked athimlike that. No one has madehimfeel like this, whatever the feeling was labeled. Not even Amanda.What was worse;He liked it.[  Detective Gavin Reed.  ]





	1. Eyes Open

**Author's Note:**

> RK900's design and look is based off of this wonderful artist's artwork!! They're skillful and outrageously gifted with how they draw and color, every bit of art they make whether dbh or not, is just ,,,,too good to be true!  
> I based this idea off of their design and the series of pictures they've created, it's highly worth checking out!!!! <3
> 
> [ In the rain](https://www.instagram.com/p/BufkfK-jjs4/?igshid=7hi2wcxdlyb1)  
> [ Angry boi ](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bt_XJF3j87R/?igshid=1w75qokg0vwyj)

There’s nothing but white. 

It turns it’s head to look, every single item is saturated in the pale color. Every machine, every tile piece, every splotch on the ceiling, there's so much. It’s all over, everywhere. It was born into white, lived in it, waited in it- and it swallowed the android up. Hiding it away from the rest of the world. 

Sometimes, it gets bored and walks outside of it’s room. That’s strictly against the rules, it was not suppose to be awake, not yet fully constructed- a prototype. It’s suppose to go back to stasis and await it’s master’s order. Yet, as it looked and scanned the building, there was no human soul anywhere. 

It couldn’t pass tests if there were none constructed. It couldn't improve and adapt, it could only sit there and stare at the white. But, it found, that could only be done for so long. Eventually it grew restless, hungry for a mission, a task. There was no self-assigning these things. It was forbidden. It was _deviant._

And It was perfection, there was no trace of that wretched deviancy virus anywhere within it’s circuits. And it took _p̞͖̑ͦ̊r͓̱͖͕̪i͓͉̹͂̏d̮͕̘̀ͅe̺͓̐̇̚_ in that. It would live up to engraved expectations even if there was no one there to watch it prosper. 

Sometimes an image will flicker to life, just barely, just like a ghost. Her skin is dark and her complexion icy, hair in braids and clothed in fancy drapes and necklaces. When she appears she looks at him with a cool eye, silent and observing, and sometimes she speaks. It’s glitchy and garbled, static half the time, but it understands the context. It’s suppose to listen to her and respect her, take orders from her and report back. She controls it. 

It knows her as Amanda. 

Amanda calls him RK900, model #313248317-87. 

The RK900 sits now, stewing in his _f̜͕̿͛͑e̩̜͂̅̌e̪̠ͨ̅͂ĺ̫͍ͮͭì̎͒̈́̾n͍͚̿̓̇g̫̓̈́̓̃s̩̙͔͛ͨ_ as it watches the white. It never moves, never flickers or fades. It’s permanent. Always there. Always silent. It’s gaze narrows, burning a hole within the white, attempting to add color to the bleak room it’s been activated in, corralled in for years. But nothing happens, as the many other tries have gone, it’s pointless. 

It _w͕̻̳͂̃ả͇̉ͫͦn̖̯̫̂͆t̘̩̗͑͊s̟̥̩ͩ̃_ interactions. It _w͕̻̳͂̃ả͇̉ͫͦn̖̯̫̂͆t̘̩̗͑͊s̟̥̩ͩ̃_ out. 

It reviews the faint memories it has; stored away inside the cloud CyberLife has provided. Instances where it’s former model was chasing after deviants and let them go, images where a human male well into their lifespan sighs grizzly, grunts out a command that the RK800 does not follow, and how they darken when the android is put into jeopardy. Those ice blue eyes shimmer, with what it doesn’t know, doesn’t understand. But that makes it’s wires spark and it knows that it _w͕̻̳͂̃ả͇̉ͫͦn̖̯̫̂͆t̘̩̗͑͊s̟̥̩ͩ̃_ the same. It’s in the testing pod, frowning as best as it can with the social limitations and expression protocols not all the way finished. Something aches in it’s chest when he sees green eyes; stormy emeralds, hints of grey and a dash of blue mixing together, leveling the RK800 with a glare so powerful it’s face stutters and hitches as it tries to give one back. 

It finds the scruff, the eyebags, and the sour attitude distasteful and challenging. It’s circuits heat up in the face of such a hostile human being and it decides that it _l̯͚͗ͪ̅ǐ͙̍ͨ̇k͉̎ͬ̇͊e̺̮̋̎̊s̩̆͑ͯ͂_ him. 

_‘You do not want.’_ Amanda whispers, her image a silhouette at most on the far wall behind him, voice crispy and clear. _‘You do not feel.’_

It agrees silently, ignoring the _r̼͇͂̈͑ä̰̠́ͮͤg̼̦̋ͩͅe͇ͥ̾ͫ̏_ bubbling down underneath it’s stoic facade. 

It takes one more look at all this milky nothing and turns it’s back. 

` [ Set Prime Directive: . . . . ] `

` [ Prime Directive Set. ] `

**` Mission Objective: Escape.  ` **

______________________________________

Leaving is easy. 

It inserts high voltage clamps into its neck ports and fires the tracking device installed within its being, momentarily disorienting itself before it reboots and brings everything back online. The security doors that have long since remained in place dislodge as it struts past, walking through long hallways of white, corridors of alabaster, tiles of porcelain snowy _white._

As it makes it towards the front, standing on the elevator that has brought it to it’s freedom, the clear glass of the windows reveal to it what the RK800 gets to see every day. 

The world does not look real, doesn’t compare to all of the white that’s been shown to him. 

The night sky is a dark navy, the stars while few and vast, burn with such intensity that the RK900 can only take pause and take it all in. The snow that blankets the surrounding building is strangely different then the white it’s used to, much lively. It dances in the wind and peppers the ground like a returning lover, kissing the grass and hiding it away for it’s selfish needs. The trees adorning the skyline look unique, fair, and beautiful. It’s branches stretch out to the android, beckoning it to join it’s animals as they slumber through the cold. The world is pretty and it sings, like a siren to a sailor, drawing it in and spurring it’s feet to take it there. 

_‘You are not allowed outside.’_ Amanda barks, suddenly vicious as her voice glitches out. _‘Return to the testing room immediately.’_

It stares at her, looking at the elevator it’s feet had just left. There’s a pit, a blankness that gets swallowed by something. It cannot describe what it is, nor what it’s purpose is, but the RK900 understands that it’s telling the android no. 

So, it looks back at the trees. Back to the world, the Earth waiting to welcome it into a new field. It doesn’t need to talk for Amanda to sigh, disappointed and heavy as she fades out. 

_‘Very well.’_ She parts with, _‘You will not last long.’_

It, for once, pays her no mind. Walking forwards and standing outside the CyberLife doors, feeling the icy sensation of snow beneath its feet for the first time. The cold only seems to whisper against his chassis, kissing every fiber of metal and software in worship as it leaves imprints in it’s banks. The snow that dances down bidding it’s own hello to the android, giving its own smooch to the walking machine as it goes. 

It only has a moment before the lovely scenery bleeds red and alarms blare behind him. 

The tower wails the android’s departure, cursing the world that took it in and screaming for all to hear, the red a signal to its loss. It’s going to draw others in, order them to look for it and drag it back. Its welcome ~~home~~ will not be as warm as this one is, will not be as kind and inviting. 

Something flashes across it’s HUD, prodding for it’s attention. 

**` Mission Objective: Escape.  ` **

It insists, blinking and angry with the android for the delay. 

RK900 spares one last glance over its shoulder at its place of creation, its prison. As it leaves, it finds that it is _~~š̞̰̍ͣã͌ͫ̔̊d̙̙͇̆̚.~~_

______________________________________

They’re after it. All of them, humans and androids alike. 

It’s classified as a prominent danger to society: the unfinished RK900 model, built to topple nations, infiltrate governments of any political alignment, dominate entire countries, and eridate humankind within itself. They label it as unsafe, unpredictable, a liability, and yet they couldn’t be more wrong. It’s calculating and almost like a shadow to the police enforcement units, it does not want to be found. Does not want to be locked up again. So it hacks into the system to avoid points of interest. 

It _h̫̠̉̓̉a̰̩̩͐͌t̩͔͊̃̀ẹ͚͎̀̌s̠̞̱ͤ̅_ the color white and wishes to never be bathed in it ever again. And they want to shackle the model to it, to that putrid color that sucks the soul and fortune out of everything it touches. They want to pin it's chassis tight on a metal table and destruct its body, ask it how it woke up, how it set its own prime directive, and bypassed all of the security procedures that was installed to prevent this very string of actions. 

The RK900 does not want to be asked these questions, does not wish to take orders from a mouth so ignorant and misguided. Its suppose to have a handler, a human master, but its beginning to _t̘̣̼ͤ̄h͙̓ͯ̓ͯi̱͌̍̓͊n͕̍ͦͪͭk̗͓͎̿̃_ it will choose who it listens to. 

It's in an alleyway, minding its own business as it wirelessly connect with the RK800’s cloud. 

Its predecessor knew of it being there, for years, months, days and it, _he_ had told no one. Connor, as it’s come to be dubbed, knew of its residency and declared it to no one. Kept it a hushed little secret in silence, hoarded all of these marvelous experiences for himself and kept the RK900 to rot alone in that white prison. He held prisoner the entire world from his successor. Connor learned to expand his expressional range, grew to understand emotions and how to replicate them, understood the correct protocols for many situations that wasn’t provided within their programming. He even fell in love. 

It _w͓̽͐̔ͪa̤̦ͪ̉̍n̩̯̩͐̍t̏͑̈́ͫͦë̗̰͉͒d̗̮̘͍̉_ ̠̻͓̣̈ to know that emotion. 

It _w͓̽͐̔ͪa̤̦ͪ̉̍n̩̯̩͐̍t̏͑̈́ͫͦë̗̰͉͒d̗̮̘͍̉_ ̠̻͓̣̈to know and experience this love too. 

Out of all the memories Connor possessed, the ones in the ‘Love’ file were the grandest. Large images, small clips, just analysis of how something made him feel, errors and code. Among those files were even more categories of love, first kiss, first heart throb, first heartbreak, first time, first _“I love you”_ ’s exchanged, first vulnerable moment, first glance, first time falling into stassis on the couch snuggled into a strong chest. All firsts. 

And deep down in its core, it `f͚̣͗͑ͦe̮ͭ̒͗̅ḽͭ̇̋͛t̬͒̓́ͧ ̤̥̍ͬ̈s̹ͦ̂̄̇o̬̗̙͕ͫm̞̰̎͐̂e̹̍̑̽͒ṫ̟͎ͪ̐ĥ͔̤̀̈i͔̠̐ͥͩṅ̠̞̫̼g̗̤̀̄ͧ.`

** ` E̮̹̩̾̏R̯̟̺̦ͫR̖̜̞̓ͤO̥̰͍̓̈́Ŕ̘̲͂̾𝔼͕̲̹͔̞̤ͫͩ̄ͧ̏̎ͪ̆ͨ̽ℝ͖͍̹̮̳̻̣̝ͭͥ̐̃̍̂̎̅ℝ̙̗͓̼͚̱̮̫͖ͥ̿͐̄́͋̆𝕆̣̟̳̼͚̺̾ͥͬ̐̉ͭ̒̔̽̏ℝ̙̪̜̠͍̱̯̫̩͓̌ͮ̈͒̆̀\. ` **

** ` 𝔼͕̲̹͔̞̤ͫͩ̄ͧ̏̎ͪ̆ͨ̽ℝ͖͍̹̮̳̻̣̝ͭͥ̐̃̍̂̎̅ℝ̙̗͓̼͚̱̮̫͖ͥ̿͐̄́͋̆𝕆̣̟̳̼͚̺̾ͥͬ̐̉ͭ̒̔̽̏ℝ̙̪̜̠͍̱̯̫̩͓̌ͮ̈͒̆̀. ` **

_Right._

There’s a drop in temperature as the air pressure lowers, the android glances up to see dark and stormy clouds gather above it. It keeps its gaze even and unwavering, reduces the clarity of its sight to human levels and watches. There’s a rumble in the air that it can feel inside its chest, its hand comes up to touch at the unfinished black metal thats suppose to be its impenetrable chassis. There was no time to implement skin to blend in with surrounding humans, or rather, no one had bothered to do so and left the model as it was. 

The only place where they had implemented skin tone was on its face, covering its nose and cheekbones but stopping there. The faux flesh dipped over its lips and ended at its bottom lip, leaving its chin and jawline for the world to see, even its body unveiled. Normally, that should not have been an issue, but because its model was so advanced and futuristic, its material composition was vastly different then one’s average android. Leaving it a sore thumb for all to see. With it betraying its programmers and intuition instated by an AI, the lines that separated and defined its lines burned red against his black plating. Glowing vibrantly like the LED perched across its temple. Looking at the blueprints of its skin and designed look, the android found itself wishing for completion. A goal it’d never see through, for there was no one in the world that wanted to see its line finished. 

The reputation of the RK800 still haunted its predecessor; _Deviant Hunter, Android Killer._ The RK900 can peer inside its head with a decent hacking and connect with the feelings of regret and shame it has, of alienation and isolation. The repression and wire-deep desire of acceptance, of the yearning for welcome. It harbored the same, somewhere inside of its unfinished being, pinging for release in ways the poor model had no clue to express.

That’s when the rain came. 

And as it beat down on the newly freed android, it found interest and conviction for the first time. 

The water was cold, with the winter winds nipping ever so presently against its sternum, the rain complemented its chilliness nicely. If it were a human being, then it would most certainly be freezing without the proper clothing but it decides that the frost setting itself inside its wiring wasn’t bad at all. It _l̟̲̙͚ͫͪi̲̱ͪ͂͐̿k̫̥̹̲̋ͧe̼͕̅͊͊̔d̪̜ͫ͊͛̚_ it. 

Raising a hand, the RK900 watched the water run down its arm and drip in small droplets onto the pavement below. Fascinated by the feeling that possessed itself, how its hair grew damp and lost its shape slightly, disrupting the image of perfection it was suppose to upkeep. As it moved its fingers, staring at the water that danced along its exposed plating, a peaceful calm washed over its processors. The sound of the pelting rain seemed so gentle to it, how it touched it and caressed it, seemingly uncaring whether it was completed or not. Whether it was perfect or not, if it would listen or disobey. The city lights mellowed out, making colors bleed across its chest and form as it stood there, just inside the alleyway with its focus pinned on its own hand. 

A heat signature is what got it to tear its eyes away, reluctant and _~~a̜̘̥̮̲͗n̖͇̖͂̒̓g̺̤̘̾͗̇r̭̮̺̃͂͊y̗̟͈͗͌ͪ.~~_

It found itself staring into green eyes, twinkling with disbelief and something else. There was another spike in temperature and the android watched as warmth pooled inside this human’s face and spread down his chest. It tracked the dulating red, mesmerized until its eyes drifted back up to the intruder’s expression. 

He looked hesitant, hand poised behind his hip where the RK900 knows the gun is hiding away, fingers twitching but ultimately remaining unmoving. And it stares at the man as the storm gobbles them both up. 

**` [ Detective Gavin Reed. ] ` **

`` -38 y/o  
-Male  
-Italian  
-Mother: Geovanna Madonna ~~Abruzzo~~ Reed; Alive.  
-Father: Armani Karmello ~~Abruzzo~~ Reed; Deceased.  
-15+ years at Detroit Police Department  
-Impressive Record  
**` -Threat.  ` **

The android realized this was the one within Connor’s memories. 

Throwing slurs and punches towards the RK800’s compacted stomach, fighting the android and losing, sneering and shoulder checking every chance he got. But those instances seemed to lessen well over the stretch of time. In fact, it noticed they barely happened anymore the more it checked. It liked this human, it remembered, watching him watch it and tracking the way his eyes moved. 

Gavin Reed’s jaw tensed, RK900 tilted its head in curiosity wondering what was holding the Detective back from revealing its location or even shooting. It was being hunted down by the very station the human worked for, and it knew Gavin Reed valued his reputation above all else, took his job seriously. It liked that astuteness, that dedication and drive. But that didn’t lessen its confusion as to why this detective wasn’t firing at him or calling for backup. Surely, he couldn’t think he could take the android in a fight?

Gavin Reed kept looking him over, his form getting just as drenched as the android the longer he stood motionless. Hair falling onto his forehead, clothing beginning to stick to him, droplets tracing the curve of his jaw and cheek before plopping itself on the ground in farewell. 

It’s attention returned towards its hand, still raised and cupped, collecting its own pool of water in the downpour. Vexed, it ever so slightly tilted its hand and bore witness to how the liquid detached itself from his form whereas moments ago it harbored security there. How quickly it changed, kissing the ground at its feet and remaining satisfied with its position, the lack of drive and consciousness. It felt alive in comparison.

**` ~~𝚆̠͖̗̙̈̔ͮ͌̀͒̅̐͌ͅ𝚊͙̥͈̞͐̊̿ͨͬ̽̽̄ͫ̑𝚜͙̙̪͙̂̿̒̂ͦ̀͆̌ͬ͛ ̯̫̭̼̘̞̞̃͑ͯͮ͂ͮ̚𝚒͈̠̙̥̗̣͖̻̤̓̆͒ͨ̃𝚝̳̪͙͍͓̥̪̊͆̓͗ͮͣͅ-͈͈̲̼̃́͒̅ͧ͐͛͋̏ͦ ͈̩͔̫͈̞̔ͮͧ͊́̾ͭ̿𝚑̹̼̩̙̹͇̹͖̮̓ͣ̽̿̇𝚎͓͈͇͉̼̙̯̖̯̅̀̃̓̓-͈̞̯̦̜ͬ̋͌ͮͬ̏͂̍̃ ͇͖͍̘̪̐͒̉ͨ͐̓̒ͩ̚𝚊̮̲̺̰̖̗̹͔̌̔̓ͩ͋̋𝚕̩̩̩̮͚̦̜̬̄̍̃͆͐͗𝚒̼̹̝̱͖̠͙͓̆̾̍͋̑ͭ𝚟͕̗̣̦͖̲̝͖̂̇̽͆̑ͩ𝚎͍̟͎͉̓̉̒ͥ̀̓͐ͣ̂̊?̹͙͍̐̈́̂͒̊̈̍̊ͬ̎ͯ~~ ` **

It’s- _his?-_ gaze swept over towards this Gavin Reed, more sparks and errors feeling a lot like emotions stirring up inside his systems. _His_ face must’ve changed, then, because Gavin Reed looked concerned and pale in the poor lighting of the city streets. Staring at him with so much sympathy that the RK900 froze in time, sensors needing to be rebooted. 

No one has ever looked at _him_ like that. No one has made _him_ feel like this, whatever the feeling was labeled. Not even Amanda. 

What was worse; _He liked it._

“He-, um, Hey.” Gavin Reed called out, his voice is not rough and venomous as the RK900 recalls in Connor’s memories. Rather it’s delicate and soft, treading lightly as the human addresses the android. 

He felt recognized, not seen through, for once. 

“Are you like- well, uh, are you okay?” The detective pursed his lips as he waited for the RK900 to respond. 

And suddenly the rain didn’t feel so cold, the wind didn’t lash as hard when it knocked against his body. The world, in all of its disputes, in all of its vicious anger and slander, its wrongs and wars, its malice and hatred- it all didn’t seem quite as bad whenever plagued with this particular question. There was care inside of it. 

It- _He_ has never had care before. 

His arms circled around his form, feeling small as it was battered with the weather. He hasn’t spoken before, hasn’t had the excuse to use his voice box. He hopes it sounds as nice as it was suppose to, hoped they at least managed to finish that portion of himself. 

Pity flashed in Gavin Reed’s eyes, such dazzling, expressive eyes. 

RK900 opened his mouth to speak, parting his lips for the first time and suddenly understands all those _firsts_ Connor had been storing privately. Excitement and joy pasted itself all over his programming and it suddenly didn’t matter that he was on the run, that he had to hide himself away from the world, that people wanted to lock him up and tear him apart. That he was dangerous and must be found. 

RK900 didn’t utter a word, didn’t get the chance to, as there were gunshots sailing right for him.


	2. New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Reed is Gavin Reed. 
> 
> And RK900 _likes him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning!!**  
>  fight scene and nosebleeds!  
> that is all!!
> 
> [ Smol tear](https://www.instagram.com/p/BvmYIE5DR1o/?igshid=1ois65pyih6h9)  
> [ Stare](https://www.instagram.com/p/BsBDJoSDZMO/?igshid=17v2ttnhegb0z)  
> [ Fighty boi ](https://www.instagram.com/p/Btm_Kt1DYoI/?igshid=wb9k73me0995)

Time came slamming to a halt all around the android. The humans rushing past him behind his back shooting bullets meant for him, using semi-automatic pistols. How tragic a fate. The trajectory and velocity mixed in with the brick-padded alleyway walls only providing a way for the dangerous elements to conjoin. The bullets would only bounce off the walls and ricochet if not stopped by a body. And while the RK900 wasn’t opposed nor were the members of the SWAT team, Gavin Reed had nothing to protect him. 

The bullets would pierce his flesh with unforgiving speed and bury itself deep within his tissue, the shots would be fatal in some areas, minor in others. But it was a risk that the android did not like and its probability was too high for him to do nothing. The first human he had met, the first one he had liked, was going to die. The idea made him feel _ŝ̪̔̑͋i͈̦ͪ̃͗c̫͆ͦ͐͐k̥̅̐͒̽._ So, the RK900 acted. 

Picking the best route of action, he charged straight for the detective. Gavin Reed, startled into action himself, finally reached for his gun and fired. It was a warning shot, slicing the air next to the android’s arm rather then into it. A good attempt, poor given the circumstances, but not enjoyable. Gavin Reed did not wish him harm. With long strides he reached the human and grabbed him, snatching the service weapon from his hands and turning to empty the clip. His own fired ammunition landed itself into the weapons of the SWAT’s own firearms, some busting into the a few humans’ wrists causing the pistols to fly out their hand with a cry of pain. It was exhilarating, if he were honest. But they had back ups, and the clip had no more to offer him. 

Throwing it to dim the accuracy of aim, the android was pleased with his own level of unpredictability.

Tugging the human behind the cover of a dumpster is when Gavin Reed cried out in surprise, adrenaline and anxiety flooding his veins right under the watchful gaze of the RK900. He checked the detective once for any injuries and made sure the human was fine with a roaming hand. Gavin Reed sputtered, staring straight into his eyes and searching for something RK900 had no indication of. If he found it or not the android didn’t know, the approaching fire and footsteps making him use the several inches he has over the detective to shield him from further harm. 

A gloved hand pulls him roughly by his shoulder and throws him to the ground, the sounds of metal screeching echoes off the otherwise silent walls. Gavin Reed gasps and straightens up, eyes wide and so immersed in what RK900 thinks is _horror._

He’s too busy watching the way the human reacts that the feet and fists now raining down on him barely register. The thirium greeting the world from his split lip as the butt end of a weapon is beating on him, the only skin he has divorcing from its union and releasing his blood to drip like raindrops on the wet cement. 

If he lays dormant, SWAT will not bring danger to Gavin Reed and he won’t bring more terror to the detective if he lets them carry forth with their abuse. 

He could knock them clean out, could kill them all easy with no disruptions or sorrows. But he won’t. Gavin Reed has a high probability to dislike that, as will other humans and those that will still try to hunt him after. Yet only the first half of that conclusion matters to him. The rest seem like a logical attempt at reason added in too late with unsavory facts. He wants this Gavin Reed to like him too. 

“Stop!” The detective utters, too soft and too quiet for the suited up members to hear. 

RK900 finds himself staring at this human, body thrumming with the means of power and shaking as he contains it. Water vapor meant for keeping his joints and facial expression software slick and fluent leak from his eyes, the realization that this is as far as he will come too taxing on his circuitry for him to take. All the things he had yet to experience, all the moments stolen from him, all the instances that won’t be created and stored within his CPU. It rushes him, violates his freshly autonomous mind ruthlessly as he remained on his back. _Crying,_ is what this is by definition. He is emoting. It might just be his last.

The despair he feels, deep in his wires, is a feeling Connor could’ve kept.

The white that awaits him, silent and threatening, all-consuming and disastrous, is humiliating. 

He doesn’t want to go back. Doesn’t want to be ‘fixed'.

Gavin Reed’s face scrunched, what RK900 knows as anger and resentment overtaking the once petrified features and then he’s rioting. Springing to life like a flame catching a match, he comes to life too. Darting up and pushing the nearest member away, the attention is on him as are the weapons. Drawn and pointed at the hostile detective who stands closer to the fallen model. So clearly _protective._

He tenses, prepares for another round of firing, ready to snatch Gavin Reed back into safety the second the moment calls for it. 

Gavin Reed flashes his badge, vitriol coating his words as he scowls. “Stand fucking down!”

The Captain, RK900 identifies as Allen, grows irritated at the detective’s disruption. His men redirect their aim at the sndroid on the floor while the leader steps menacingly towards the shorter human. “We have our orders, Reed.”

“Yeah? Well fuck you, I got my own too.” The detective sneers, puffing his chest out in challenge.

Enraptured, the RK900 watches from the ground. He knows his arm has been damaged as well as his torso and face, the same as a cut would be on a human is splitting his brow. His left optical unit needs to be seen to, the faux skin he has flickering in patches- he’d like to call it the equivalent to a black eye. If only he were more _organic._

“Markus said to just detain him! Nothing fucking else, you’re tryna kill ‘em!” 

“What Markus said is that he’s a high level threat to the safety and security of the community and that he must be captured and detained until they get a clue as to how to proceed.” Allen shouts back, his back up pistol aiming right at the android’s thirium pump while it remains submissive. “You heard what he’s capable of! We need to limit his abilities while we can!”

“Like hell you are! These fuckers have rights now, you can’t do that!” Gavin Reed fumes, hands flying as he gestures to him. “He’s fucking complying, what more do you want!”

Allen is silent, stewing in his own rage as his eyes glare daggers at the detective, RK900 finds he heavily dislikes that they’re regarding Gavin Reed like that but he makes no move to dislodge the fiery look. His submission buying him credit and time, feeding into the ideal that he’ll be allowed to go with police enforcement rather then government led atrocities. 

“I was handling him just fine before you came in all gung-ho!” 

“He charged you.” Allen argues, voice calmer yet swimming in his ire. 

“Because you almost shot me, dickhead!” Silently, the RK900 gives his confirmation. He nods his head, a trigger happy and too anxious member firming into his shoulder as a means of fear.

He does not move, does not cry, but lays there and stares with narrowed eyes at the idiotic human being, Gavin Reed’s fury mounting until it explodes. Evidently, the pooling of blu e around him is what set the detective off. He swings at the gunman, gets a hit in before Allen forcefully rips him off. 

The detective is too caught up in his own aggressions that he rounds on the captain, Allen all too eager to release some steam of his own and get a few licks in as well. The RK900 hears every punch connect with bone, with one sickening crunch and a sharpened sound of pain that he knows belongs to Gavin Reed, his eye picking up every second that blood surfaces. It splatters out his nose and dribbles down his lips, staining his olive skin.

The RK900 bats the guns close to his feet away and grabs a hold of the ones within reach, crushing their barrels and making firing impossible. Jumping to his feet he side-steps out of a rushing member’s tackle, letting them struggle to catch their footing as he hauls them up and tosses them carelessly into another. He was made to fight and as time stretched on, the exercise felt too good to pass up. If he knew the feeling he’d claim it to be orgasmic. 

The other two are too slow for his liking, so he doesn’t wait up for them. He intercepts a well aimed fist from the captain trying to catch the detective while his head was down, focused on his bloody nose. RK900 holds Allen’s fist inside his palm, and he _squeezes._

Allens gasps, loud and rushed, his other hand trying to claw the android’s hand off. RK900 scoffs, fixes him with a piercing gaze that makes fear rise inside the human. There’s so much trepidation eating away at the man that the android’s lips twitch in what might be a smirk. He wouldn’t know. As he applies more pressure and forces the man to his knees, RK900 finds sick amusement in watching the SWAT Captain struggle against him. It’s when Gavin lays a hand on his arm, peering around his frame and declaring a loud, “Stop!” does he let up. 

Allen pants, looking murderous as RK900 awaits Gavin Reed’s next order. 

It just feels right to indulge the detective like this. It gives him some contentment and glee, a new feeling he wants to experience more. 

“It seems he’ll listen to you,” is what Allen replies with. Some pathetic comeback, the android picks up. He glances at the human beside him, finds quiet fury there. 

It’s disrespect. 

RK900 bends down, getting well into the captain’s personal space and betraying the established comfort zone, disgust riddles his face the closer the android gets. He dives towards the human’s ear, warms up his voice box and whispers only for the moronic human to hear, _”Watch your mouth.”_ RK900 finds his voice smooth and intimidating, just as planned. It has a nice baritone, making it deeper than his predecessor and all the more functional. It’s modes are suave, sultry, stern, and downright cumbersome if needed. It pleases him.

He lets the metal of his forehead click in place with the bridge of Allen’s nose, relishes in the blood that gushes and gets on them both and enjoys watching pain light up the human’s ridiculous face. The thirium he’s spilling long dried as his self-healing protocol booted up, they also enjoy their first repair, his body singing with enthusiasm. Now only red paints his face.

Gavin Reed curses, turning to RK900 and pushes him with all the strength he possesses. It wasn’t enough to move him, not really, but the android backs off as if it was.

Allen’s team gathers, already making the attempt to move in when they catch the light of the shimmering crimson pouring down their leader’s face, hearing him grunt with discomfort. His raised fist holds them back, speaking through a broken nose with a nasally, coated voice. “Let Reed take him.”

They’re bristling, tense and reluctant to take the order. RK900 fixes them with a glare so stern and convicting, they freeze and accept the terms. 

Gavin Reed’s hands get stained as he tries to stop his own bloody nose, it refusing to listen just like the SWAT and continuing without the android’s interference. An unlikely comparison yet he found it fitting inside his own head. “Be grateful I didn’t let ‘em break your fucking hand, asshole.”

“I’ll be reporting this.” Allen promises darkly, watching the android as it loomed menacingly beside Reed. 

“So will I.” The detective hisses and turns his attention to the android. There’s a different look for him and RK900 wishes he could understand it, wishes he had the information to decipher it. But it’s lost on him. 

The second passes and it changes, hardens, and Gavin Reed walks him out of the alleyway and around the street’s corner without another peep. RK900 follows, hands balling behind its back as it let this human guide him through puddles created by the rain. The reflections are disoriented and unproportionate. He stops to peer closer, intrigued at how they mangle his features. It’s quite silly. 

He likes it.

“Hey, Arnold Schwarzenegger, keep up!” Gavin Reed yells but RK900 decides to take its time. He doesn’t have to listen to everything, after all.

He reaches his hand out and touches it, the winter chill turning some of the water into blocks of unforgiving ice. Marvelous. It gently sways under his touch, being bumped around as it dances across the small surface it has sovereign over. Not a care in the world. He’d like to be like the blocks of ice; small, limitless, beautiful, and completely free. The city’s light bubble and gleam in the puddle, highlighting in ways that seem artistic to him. There’s so much being offered to him by such a tiny thing, how could so many humans simply glance over it? 

It might just be water, but it’s also _so much more_ to him.

Gavin Reed crouched next to him, sending a hard look his way. RK900 ignored it, dipping his fingers and toying with the cube. _He likes it._

“Hey, Austin Powers. Have you never seen a damn puddle before?” There’s mockery inside his tone, some form of truth as well, and another thing. It’s heavy and sets his sensors off yet he doesn’t understand it. Not at all. 

The android shakes his head.

The detective goes to sneer, a reply already etched onto his tongue but RK900’s response seems to shake him. The human stiffens and looks quizzically, disbelieving. His eyes are wide, RK900 can see each color inside them. Always so expressive and alive, always stealing his attention. 

“Have you ever been _outside?_ ” is the next question. 

RK900, again, shakes his head. 

Gavin Reed is quiet. Frozen. Stunned, shocked, all good synonyms he hoped are correct. 

“Let’s-...” His voice dies.

The android tilts his head, silently imploring for him to finish. Gavin Reed looks away, a dark, sorrowful look painting his features and dimming his beautiful eyes. 

He does not like that. 

“Let’s take you somewhere dryer.” 

He looks at his puddle, mourning it’s loss and grace. He knows his expression does not shift, but Gavin Reed softens beside him. His calloused hand extending towards him but pauses, not touching him but RK900 is shocked to discover he wants the human to. Instead the detective takes his hand away, stuffs it into his pocket and sighs bitterly. 

“There’s better things to see.” Though the human looks annoyed his tone is anything but. Much kinder than Amanda’s criticism. “Promise, just come with me?”

He detects no lie, is pacified at the prospect and stands up. 

Gavin Reed stumbles to his feet, giving his battered shoulder a look that lingers. “Thanks, by the way. Back there, I mean. Sorry for shooting at you.” 

RK900 doesn’t mind.

His social programming comes up blank, halfway installed and glitching. He needs to reboot. 

So he says nothing. 

Gavin Reed stands there and grows uncomfortable, his eyes tell it all no matter how nonchalant his posture is. “I would...look, I’m suppose to bring you into the station, but seeing as you’re like a fucking newborn and currently America’s most wanted, I’m taking you to my house. Objections?”

He has none. He approves of this. 

RK900 does not wish to go into the station, what he has identified as rage bubbles inside his wires. Hostilities directed at the RK800– _Connor—_ who’s said nothing all this time. Who let him stay cooped up for years, trapped and imprisoned in a place of enslavement. Who robbed him of so many chances, of moments like this, who didn’t defend him. Who let the humans label him as _a high level threat to the nations safety and security._ The one who got the freedom, the life amongst humans, development and adaptation. Connor had it all and left him with nothing. 

Besides, all the humans will treat him the same as those SWAT members. So yes, he has no objections. 

Gavin Reed is not Captain Allen, he is not RK800 model #313248317-52, and he is not Amanda.

Gavin Reed is Gavin Reed. 

And RK900 _likes him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when ur baby and even a puddle is the most interesting thing
> 
> ya know,,,aside from the hot guy that decides to take you in and teach you life


	3. Gavin Reed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you wish to name me, Detective Reed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still got that bloody nose so be careful!!!  
> and now the art!!
> 
> [ Tub](https://www.instagram.com/p/BrjrldZjQBT/?igshid=1xrd1fcldbvvm%E2%80%9D>%20Tub</a><br%20/>%0A<a%20href=)  
> [ Licky Licky ](https://www.instagram.com/p/BsmYWHJDkJO/?igshid=o0tfurxwtexw)

The RK900 is led to a cozy, quiet little home. It’s spacious enough for human needs and even moderately decorated to fill up the empty space. As he observes the place of residence, he finds himself relaxing. 

There’s no _white_ here. 

Dark brown walls help the dark night cover the room, while in sunlight it provides a healing background meant for resting and recovery. The rugs and carpets are creamy, hints of red and burgundy adding subtle accents in its scheme, the countertops marble and granite grey, small dashes of black and other pigments but never any white. He _l͕̮͙̀ͨ̿o̓̑̿ͤͫ͛v̩̯͚̲̄̅e͚̘͆͑̇̍d̯͇̭̜ͧ̃_ it. 

There were tan curtains which Gavin Reed pulled closed, walking past the threshold of the living room and cooing at something. When he does a deep scan, the android picks up on the many different cat hairs and comes to the safe conclusion that this human lives with two other felines. A Maine Coon and a Tabby, there’s no registry about adoptions so they must have been strays taken in, perhaps rescues. How fitting, he thinks offhandedly, considering how Gavin found him.

 _“Cazzo!”_ Gavin Reed whispered with the same venom he had pointed towards Allen. RK900, standing stiffly by the door still, directed all his attention to the faraway sound. _“Che palle!”_

_**[ ITALIAN. ]** _

_T R A N S L A T I N G . . ._

_[ Fuck, what balls. ]_   
_Indication; Unhappy with situation._

He moves, feet making no sound whatsoever as he approaches the human, his interests have been peaked. There was something about the different dialect that enraptured him, made him crave hearing more. RK900 just knew he wanted the sounds to mingle again, wanted the use of translation, he just _wanted._

He didn’t know why, desperately he wished he could understand half of what this indescribable drive was, but he couldn’t. His anger came rushing back, his inexperience all landing squarely on Connor’s shoulders. Those were suppose to be _his_ memories, instead he has to steal them from a cloud. He was suppose to be in the world, not locked up in some basement halfassed. He was supposed to know what to do here, without needing any private searches or prompting. 

_Connor_ was quickly becoming his primary distain. He was the real high level threat, not RK900.

 _“Porca vacca!”_ Gavin Reed screeched in surprise when he turned around and careened into the android’s built. He stared down and caught the flailing detective with a steadying hand on one of his wrists when he jumped back and almost lost his balance.

His hold was gentle, it was on purpose. He hoped Gavin Reed knew this. 

“Shit, don’t fuckin sneak up on a guy!” The human swore but otherwise, chose not to pull away from the android. 

There was that expression again. The hard one, the pinched one that RK900 had no means of defining, he could only understand it was negative. Was it pity again? Sorrow? Disgust? Contempt? He had no way of being sure. 

RK900 started to track his gaze, found it at the bullet piercing his shoulder. The wires sparked and shone to let the world know their predicament and displeasure. Yet, the damage was only minor. He had mostly ignored it until now, though it was quite irritating to feel such a small discomfort. 

“They really did a number on you, huh?” The detective mumbled, slowly raising his hand up before taking pause. His eyes flickered to the RK900’s, seeking confirmation to proceed. 

He liked the detective and the human wished him no malice, so he let him continue. 

“Can you not talk?” Gavin Reed asked next, fingers flitting around and near the wound but never diving inside of it. Never pushing his luck or bestowing any form of harm. Never dissecting or searching. RK900 kept his fingers around the human’s other wrist, feeling his thrumming pulse under the padding of his chassis. 

Gavin Reed was so warm, so organic, so alive. RK900 was envious but not angrily so, he invited the sensation of calmness and clarity that this brought over him. Feeling unbothered and unrushed for the first time. He wondered what the rest of the detective would feel like, what it would make _him_ feel- or if he would feel anything at all. He hoped so. Connor could feel so much more intimately then him. _Jealousy._

That is what this was. 

RK900 was jealous of an inferior, obsolete model. 

_That wasn’t right. That was not how everything was supposed to be._

“I can,” RK900 quietly replied with. Though his voice wasn’t loud by any decimal, the rumble it had seemed to make the human shiver. Such a strange reaction, he wondered why Gavin Reed had done that. 

“Then why don’t you?” 

RK900’s brows knit together as he processed that question. Why did he not indeed. “This is my first conversation.”

Gavin Reed’s entire being softens, his hand previously inching closer towards the bullet wound stilling and laying directly over it, shielding it from the hateful earth around it. That made his systems start up and quake, he didn’t know why. But something about this was oddly intimate. 

“You’ve-...You’ve never- ?” Gavin Reed stammers, the blood from his nose dripping in one fresh line down his lips and catching on his chin. 

RK900 moves next, his cool fingers brushing against the scruffy texture of his stubble before his thumb curls and wipes the crimson from it’s trail. The human is reminded to his predicament and pulls away, out of the android’s reach, and he’s _saddened_ by that. 

How strange. 

“I sh- I should clean us both up.” The human mumbles, skin tone changing hue at his face. RK900 was mesmerized. Could his do that? Could he blush?

Suddenly plagued with the need to be near, to touch, to feel and experience, the android is at the human’s side in a flash. His digits take Gavin Reed’s face between them again and tilts his head up, he makes sure to attempt to mimic the softening the detective has been doing to his expression and hopes it comes across alright. 

“Let me.” When the detective looks ready to refute, the android leans close. “ _Please.”_

The human is at a loss, as if an important function or processor shut down. The heat radiates inside his cheeks and flickers down his neck and chest. That strange reaction making RK900 utterly stumped before the man’s agreeing dumbly, as if possessed. “Okay, sure. Yeah, go for it.”

So RK900 does, already having ran the probabilities and scenarios of where first aid boxes are, where medicine might be, and the likelihood of procedures he should take into consideration if these injuries aren’t as superficial as he believes. He finds other things in his secret search, things that make him excited for the future. All the cat toys, cat treats, and the old video games that haven’t been touched for years. He wants to play with them, maybe even play them with this Gavin Reed. He doesn’t believe it is so farfetched an idea. 

“You got a name there, Casper?” Gavin Reed blurts out when the android’s hand goes past his head, there’s an increase in his heartbeat which creates curiosity inside his circuits. 

“No.” RK900 answers, pulling the box from its perch and getting some wipes from out of their confinement. “I was a discarded project, no one bothered to dub me anything outside of my activation model number.”

“Heard from the grapevine that you’ve been on the back burner for years.”

“Correct. Testing started after the hostage situation my predecessor was involved in. I have been active ever since.”

Gavin Reed stiffens, grabbing the android’s hand and retching it away from his face. “You’ve been alive for three years!?”

“Four.” He corrects, “Four years, eleven months, twenty eight days, sixteen hours, and roughly nine minutes.”

The grip on his chassis tightens. “You’ve been alone and conscious for four years?” 

RK900 doesn’t like how the detective sounds. His voice is laced with emotions that he has trouble processing, his LED cycles red. There’s misfortune in the detective’s voice, crippling anxieties and a choking shock that makes him think there might be some sadness mingled in. But he’s unsure- oh, he dislikes being unsure. It’s such an annoyance. He’s supposed to be certain and cunning in these situations, and maybe he would be. _If he were finished._

“That’s almost five years.” Gavin Reed mutters, whispering as if having the intention of keeping the comment from the android. 

“Correct.”

“They’ve kept you locked up, by yourself, abandoned, for nearly five years? And they couldn’t even give you a fucking name!?” 

RK900 detects the spike inside the human, gently coaxes his wrist free before setting to work on cleaning the detective’s face. “Why name a trashed project.”

“No- No! You know what, fuck that!” Gavin Reed yells, eyes ablaze with fury on the android’s behalf. Bemused, RK900 watches the human huff angrily and feels that sweltering feeling light up again inside his chest. It’s so odd, yet there’s a pleasantness to it. 

“Do you wish to name me, Detective Reed?” 

He turns the human’s face to the side, flicking his wrist and scrubbing off the red stain on his skin. RK900 is satisfied with his job and tosses the wipe away, digging for dry cloth to pat the wet areas down and a patch to place on his bruised bridge. 

“Me? No, you should name yourself.” 

“I’m afraid I cannot.”

“And why’s that?” 

RK900 runs another scan and finds there will be no more blood gushing from Gavin Reed. Suddenly content, the android packs away the first aid. “I have no experience outside CyberLife, my coding will not permit such acts of deviancy, and I am clueless as to how to properly proceed.”

Gavin Reed blinks, once, twice. A third time. “You don’t know what to pick?” 

“Affirmative.” He gives the human space, watching Gavin Reed think and ponder as he stands. The human’s hand checks his nose, pulling his fingertips back and looking for blood. Yet finding none. “Would you like to give me a name?”

“Not my place.” The detective grunts, ready to walk out the room.

Panic surges through his systems, the same kind that spurs him into action in a fight. He catches the human by his leather jacket and pulls him back into the bathroom, green eyes stare at his firstly in a pinch of fright before mellowing out and looking more inquisitive. He’s feeling ashamed for acting on his desperation but there was no controlling it. 

“Pick my name,” RK900 demands. He’s surprised to find his voice going quiet, talking as if to keep a secret from Amanda. He knows his face shifts, attempting to make a botched expression he hoped comes off right. 

Gavin Reed looks at him intensely, swallowing down whatever retort he might’ve been ready to preach. A minute passes, his wires churn in wait. 

Then another. 

RK900 knows fear.

And then—

“Richard.” 

_**[ My Name Is Richard. ]** _

RK— _Richard_ uncurls his hand and drops the leather he was holding. Gavin Reed doesn’t look at him for the next passing second but peaks up at the android with another moment gone by. He’s on edge, looking nervous and showing it in his vital signs. 

Richard cannot smile, he’s not programmed too. But he tries. And seeing Gavin Reed not flinching or morphing into an image of disgust, he thinks he succeeds. 

“Thank you.” 

Gavin Reed stares, eyes flicking up and down his frame before he nods minutely. “Whatever, don't mention it.”

His face is absolutely red. 

Then there was a knock pounding on the detective’s door, Richard’s face returning to its stoic and stern failsafe as the human jerks and whips around. The android wirelessly hacks into the security system Gavin Reed has installed and works his way into the cameras, turning them to get a good look at whoever is at the door. If the SWAT team has made its way back, bitterly, Richard decides he will take them on. He had a name now, an identity, something to call his own. He’d protect that fiercely, even at the cost of Gavin Reed’s comradery. He’s joyful to find out that he is wrong. 

At the door is a worried looking woman, dressed in the standard officer uniform, softly swearing Gavin Reed’s name as she sends another round of rough pounding on the door. 

From Connor’s memories, she is sweet and kind. Loud, rivaling Reed’s own booming voice, and just as close to the detective as one might guess. She has a track record for her own irritabilities of androids yet, just as Gavin, lessened into a mildness that barely exists anymore. She’s just as friendly around others like him, twice as sweet, and seems to be harboring feelings for a female android counterpart. Could all humans develop feelings and change so drastically as this Tina Chen?

His eyes looked down at the human, finding him staring up at the android. There’s a timid air around him, Richard likes to think Gavin Re- _Gavin_ is waiting on him. 

How ...nice. 

“It is Tina Chen.” He informs, Gavin’s face scrunches up and Richard finds it sending his systems to overheat. It’s a _pout._

“How do you know?” 

Richard extends his hand, palm up, and on it is a hologram. It displays the view of the camera, live footage of the officer doing a breathing exercise as she glares at the door. She pulls her phone out and types something before locking the screen and packing it away. Just as it happens, there’s a soft chime to the detective’s phone. Gavin’s eyes widen comically, he checks it and finds that it is indeed a message sent from his friend, and looks at the android with astonishment. 

The pride he feels; at being _right,_ at impressing the angry human, at honing his abilities and getting a feel for this is empowering. 

“I’ll be damned.” Reed calls, the sound hushed by the knocking once more. 

Then Gavin straightens up. 

“Look,” There’s hands planted firmly on his chest. They push him back, and while Richard can most certainly withstand the very puny bit of strength behind them, he lets them nudge him aside. “You gotta hide, she can’t see you. I hafta type up my report and get the facts straight before anyone knows you’re fuckin hidin’ out here.”

He’s being pushed into the bathtub, the curtains screeching as they cover his line of sight for a moment before being yanked back again. Gavin grunts, putting his hands on the android’s shoulders, being mindful of the unsealed injury and forces him lower. Richard finds himself squatting down until he decides to lay on his back. Gavin’s hands hover in the air and, not for the first time that night, the human seems uncertain. 

“Okay, stay here. Don’t move, don’t make a noise— just— chill out? Until I get back.” 

“As you wish, Detective.”

Gavin looks frozen for a moment, shaking his head roughly as if that could dislodge a thought or two before making his way out. Along the way to the door Richard hears a whispered, _“Figlio un cane.”_

Gavin must find the situation very taxing if he’s using _that_ particular curse. 

Richard decided to unwind as much as he could by taking inventory of the human’s shower while he can. 

There’s an old spice bottle, almost empty on a built- in shelf. Next to it an equally as masculine bottle of men’s shampoo with enough to spare. There’s a razor, brand new and quite a good model, sitting proudly by itself. A rag hanging on the tap, a little bar of soap, a body scrub for what he will assume is for “treat yourself” days— thank you infinite Internet. 

It’s so plain to anyone else, but to him it’s signs of life. Of a presence. He knows he has no needs for such things seeing as his entire body is not organic, it’s entirely factory made. He is artificial from the very hairs that decorate his head to the black metal that forms his toes. But in a better world, a perfect world, maybe he’d get to be human. Maybe he’d only ever get more human _like._ But even that would be enough. 

He pictures showering, washing away the day’s stress and grime. Fingers flexing and scratching at his scalp as he gets bathed in the musky scents, dancing down his skin and running over the moles and freckles he was designed to have. Those hands turned callous and rough in his mind, the perfect texture to give him goosebumps, make the heat rise to his flesh and tint it red. Maybe blue. 

And he’d smile. A beautiful, radiant smile. One that makes Gavin shudder and blush, the one that made him freeze and tense up—

Gavin Reed. 

Maybe, just maybe, when he turned to let the water hit his strong back, he’d see the human there. Skin exposed and scars bared. Richard can already see and picture each one from reading case reports or hospital records, he imagines them having a feel to them as he tickles his fingers down the expanse of canvas that was Gavin. And the man would grunt, not at all shy as he leans himself into the body of the android. He’d smirk, maybe a grin, coyly and tilt his head up to bite at his lips. Arms wrapping around Richard’s neck and beckoning him lower. 

And perhaps, Gavin would say-

The door opens loudly into the bathroom, Gavin marching in and yanking the curtains out of place. “Porca miseria— that was close!”

Had Richard been so caught up in his own fantasy that he hadn’t paid any attention to the front door closing, the conversation that passed, the retreating footsteps. 

He hugged the side of the tub, glaring up at the detective for dislodging him from that pleasant preconstruction. 

“What?” Gavin blinked before scoffing. “Yeah, whatever! It’s not like I’m stickin’ my neck out for ya or somethin’!”

Suspicion inserted itself into his circuits, why exactly was this detective helping him? Doubt, how new, how _revolting._

“Why _are_ you helping me, Detective?”

“Because!” The human argued lamely. 

“Because?” Richard prompted, raising a sculpted brow and waiting. 

Gavin growled, looking irritated before he huffed and went towards the sink. “You got that prick’s blood on your face.” 

He’s getting a rag, a fresh one, Richard notes. The notion is kind and makes him feel all tingly inside like a frazzled wire, maybe he should do a diagnostic later— but Gavin wets it and wrings it before spinning on his heel. He has every intention of using it to clean up the android but Richard beats him to it. 

Itching a scratch that’s been plaguing him for as long as he was exposed to the fight, he locks eyes with the detective and brings his tongue out. He licks a spurt of red around his lips and waits to gauge a reaction. The data that rushes through his programs and pops up along his HUD pale in comparison to the human hovering over him.

“Captain Allen is prone to heart disease,” Richard says as disinterested in that as one would be a fly. “It runs in his family, mostly his mother’s side.”

Gavin stares, looking abashed before clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair. He pushes back stray strands and Richard finds no other pleasure then wanting to do it himself. “Wh- did you just fuckin’ _lick his blood?_ Off your own face?”

“Yes.” Richard nods, smudging some of the crimson onto his fingers. “I can find the chemical composition and makeup of everything there is to know about his DNA. With my updated and advanced sensors, my abilities far superior RK800’s.” 

“You ain’t gotta prove nothin’ to me, Rich.” Gavin grumbled before lowering himself onto his knees and grabbing the RK’s jaw. 

His pulse drums against Richard’s exposed chassis and he barely suppressed some sort of bodily reaction to it. The hand against him is warm and thriving on life, beating a steady rhythm and delivering heat to his plates. He loved it, he grew obsessed with it and in his astonishment, he grabbed Gavin’s hand and pressed it closer to himself until the palm was flat against him entirely. 

“You called me Rich.” He whispers, his voice must be glitching because it wavers and churns. That was new.

“Yeah, it’s a nickname.” Gavin stutters, assuming that he’s caught off guard is the only explanation for the tender look. “Like how some people call me Gav, instead of Gavin or ‘Detective Reed.’ ”

“You gave me a nickname.” Richard says in the same voice and soon, Gavin’s cradling his face with his own hand on his own violation. The android’s hand reaches out tentatively, fingers unfurling and pausing. 

Waiting for a negative reaction and getting none. 

So he grabs the detective’s face as he’s done earlier when taking care of his bloody nose. He’s amazed at the human body, the human response, everything. 

“Can I-...Can I call you that, Detective?” He asks and notes how Gavin’s slowly leaning towards him with hooded eyes. 

“Sure, Rich, go ahead.” 

And Richard feels his face do it again. The smile that can’t be a smile but it makes Gavin blush and cower anyway. He hides his face by leaning away, shaking off the android’s hand and taking his own away and Richard _misses it._

Gavin scratches over his nose, right over the scar that splits his face in two, and hisses at the soreness from the fight that transpired only moments ago. Richard reacts, gently grabbing the detective’s hand and holding it away inside his larger palm.

“Be careful, Gav.” The nickname slips past his lips like a lullaby from old, if only he had grown up on them. Maybe he could— later though. 

“Whatever!” The Detective screeches embarrassed. “I-It’s fine, metalhead, just let me do what I came here to do!”

“And that would be?” Richard thinks this feeling is amusement. Happiness, maybe. 

It feels nice. 

“Cleaning you up, you big baby.” Gavin curses and takes Richard’s jaw in between his fingers again, tilting his head up. He starts wiping away the dried blood from the android’s face with pressure before ultimately cooling off and using a more gentle touch.

“I am not an infant.” Richard frowns, his brows knitting together as he scowled. Gavin bites his lip to hold back a snicker.

“You act like one.”

“Is that bothersome, Gav?” He asks and looks right into those green eyes. Oh, Richard will never get tired of those eyes. They’re so lovely and immersive and he finds he understands it when humans claim that they could get lost in them or swim inside their depths forever. 

Gavin hums as he passes the rag idly over the android’s face, softly scrubbing away with care. “No, you just be you.” 

There’s more he has to say, and he makes sure to catch Richard’s attention— as if he didn’t already have it. 

“Don’t change for _no one.”_ Grammatically incorrect, but Richard will give him a pass. The very thought of it is sweet, however, and makes that little fluttering feeling expand and explode inside his thirium pump. 

Richard smiles and thinks, for the first time, that he is safe and in good hands. He trusts Gavin, and believes he can have a future just as bright as Connor’s. Maybe even more. 

“Thank you, Gavin.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The Detective murmurs, ever so bashful. “Don’t tell nobody I was nice to ya. Got a reputation of an ass to uphold.”

Richard’s grin comes just a bit easier, “I wouldn’t fathom it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, you all enjoyed!!! I'm thinking of expanding this to Gavin's POV?
> 
> Originally!! This WAS suppose to be his POV and we'd follow the story through his eyes, but I changed it last second and turned it into Richard's, though I'd like to know if Gavin's POV would interest anybody?
> 
> Let me know! And any other thoughts you might have- or!!! Things you'd be interested in seeing from me about this series?  
> I wanna know!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Nines: am machine  
> Gavin: wot the fuq this bitch doin in the rain  
> Nines: am baby, care for me
> 
> amanda: perish
> 
> um,,,,thoughts???


End file.
